Burning Winter Roses
by The Garden Wolf
Summary: We all know that Sandor was last seen dying beneath a tree & that it was the Elder Brother who found him. But what if it wasn't? What if it was a different Stark girl? A Stark who was not raised in the cold winter's snow, but underneath the warm sun where the gardens grew bountiful. One whom they called 'The Garden Wolf'. Benjen Stark's forsaken daughter.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello Throners! Just to let you know, most of my knowledge for this story comes from the television show, but I did my very best on researching about the books so I can get things accurate. I recently just purchased the book set, so in future chapters I will incorporate things I've learned from the books into this story. Usually, I'm a hardcore san/san shipper, but I wanted to try something different for a change. I'm still a beginner at this, but I've put a lot of thought into this story line and I promise you that it will be a great adventure!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the recognizable characters from the books/show. I only own the original characters and story line.

Now... In honor of Game of Thrones Season 5, let us begin! :)

**Chapter One**

The dark haired figure in light armor stalked the gray hare through the woods with her short bow in her right hand, trying her best to not make a sound. When the hare finally stood still, scratching it's whiskers with its tiny white paws, behind a bush the girl slowly went for an arrow in the quiver strapped on her back, then pulled the arrow back on the strong of the bow. Once she was sure she had a target on the hare, she released the string, piercing it through the cold air, but impaling it through the ground next to the hare having it flee away.

"Damn!" She growled.

A giant gray and white wolf appeared next to her. She turned her attention to the being. "I never liked archery anyway..."

The girl stood up, then went to retrieve her arrow. Pulling it out from the ground, a soft noise made itself known. She turned to her giant wolf to which she noticed had his ears pointed, his attention fixated on the east. "You heard it too, didn't you?"

Both the girl and the wolf paced through the woods together trying to find where the noise was coming from. As they got closer the noise became slightly louder. She slowed down her pace when she saw a large man with dark hair covered on the left of his face leaning against a tree. The noise was coming from him, well more of a groan- a cry of pain. The girl first watched as her wolf crept closer to him, then followed, but at a safe distance. Her eyes roamed over his body. At the sight of his sword's scabbard strapped on the left of his hip, the girl unsheathed her steel blade, balancing it with her right hand pointed at the man.

At the sound of sliding metal, the man slowly opened his eyes, but not fully. He saw a blurry figure. A wolf, he guess, and behind the beast, a woman.

"Mercy..." He pleaded with a gruff voice. The girl eyed him suspiciously. "Mercy..." He repeated, then slipped into unconsciousness.

The girl's blue eyes roamed over him again. A gasp escaped her when she saw a mass of blood stained on his right thigh. Sheathing her sword back into its scabbard, she went to the right side of the man and kneeled beside him. A foul stench filled the air and that was when she knew that his wound had been infected. She looked to the unconscious man whose dark hair covered a portion of his face. Slowly, her gloved hand reached up and gently brushed it back. The blood from her face drained when she fully saw who this wounded man was. She had seen him before. All of Westeros feared him. He could slice a man with one stroke of his blade. Not only that, it was his face that made people run. The whole left side, burnt from years ago leaving nothing, but masses of scars, red and black flesh, and a hole of where his ear was suppose to be. They called him the 'Hound', fiercest warrior in all the Seven Kingdoms. What was he doing here?

The girl debated with herself whether or not she should leave him. But then again, he could have some important information on the Lannisters or where her cousins may be, and by the looks of his wound, he would not be moving for a while. So with that, the girl grabbed for his arm, throwing it over her shoulder, then attempted to stand. "By the Gods, you are heavy!" She huffed out. The girl whistled her giant wolf to come over. He obeyed, then laid down in front of the pair, letting her lay the big man over the wolf.

Both the girl and the wolf began walking off North.

**A/N: Chapter two will be posted next Sunday, April 19. Please leave reviews! Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I would like to thank my viewers and followers. I did not think this story would do so well after the first post. And your comments did motivate me to continue. For that I am grateful. Now, as promised, here is the next chapter.

**Chapter Two:**

_**It was early in the night as a boy of seven sat on a satin pepper rug, silently playing with a wooden toy; a knight. The only illumination in the darkened room was the silver moonlight seeping through the large window on his left and the warm burning fire of orange and red in the fireplace in front of him.**_

_**A flicker of the fire caught his attention having the boy look up from his toy and stare at the dancing flames. It felt as if the longer he stared at the fire, the larger it appeared and the warmer he felt. The flames keep growing bigger making the boy feel a bit nervous, then suddenly turning to a green shade. Dropping the toy knight by his side, the boy crept closer to the flames observing its odd color. Just as he was getting closer, the green flames flared out towards his face having him cower back and the fire dying away into nothing, but ashes, with only the moon as his only source of light. Looking back at the fireplace he saw something red seeping out of the logs. As the wet substance slowly crawled towards him the boy went pale as he realized that it was blood, crimson red blood glistening in the moonlight with the foul scent of burning flesh filling the air. His hand instinctively went for the left side of his face when he started feeling some sort of burning pain eating at his skin. Touching the sensitive spot, he found his hand stained with blood, his blood.**_

_**The boy started to breathe heavily looking around the room frantically for someone, anyone to help him. In the shadows where no light touched, a tall brooding figure formed from the darkness stalking towards him into the light revealing his face. The menacing man grinned evilly as he watched his little brother cowering back in fear. The big man kneeled down and caught the small boy by the leg.**_

"_**Playing with my toy, aye?" The big man said in a deep, rough voice. "Well, it isn't yours, you spoiled boy!"**_

_**The small boy tried to escape from his brother's tight grasp, but was held down when the man squeezed tighter, and tighter, and tighter. **_

"_**Please, brother, I was only playing with it! I was going to give it back!" He explained frantically, but the big man paid no heed to it. Whimpers echoed from the small boy followed by shrills of screams as his bones began to crush and crumble beneath his brother's large calloused hand. A deep laughter shook the floors as he continued squeezing, enjoying the agonizing cries. It wasn't too long till the big man released the boy's leg and left the room chuckling to himself.**_

_**Tears stained the boy's face, though he could only feel the wetness on the right side and numbness on the left. Sharp pains shot through his leg as he wept in the silent, darkened room. He wanted to touch his leg or move, but was too afraid to. **_

_**A howl from outside pierced through the silence having the boy look up through the window staring at the crescent moon glowing silver.**_

Sandor's eyes shot open staring up at a tall tree behind him, the green leaves rustling in the breeze covering the blue skies. He could feel his chest pounding hard inside having it difficult for him to breathe. As he pushed himself up and against the trunk of the tree, a sharp pain shot through his right leg.

"Fuck…" He hissed. Sandor gazed down at his leg seeing that the wound was cleaned and fully wrapped up in bandages. Looking around the isolated perimeter he took note of the small fire that had recently died out, a saddle, and next to it, a satchel. Neither of which was his. _**What in the bloody hells happened?**_

As he strained to remember, memories of the fight at the Inn at the Crossroads came back to mind and the fading vision of Arya's retreating back. The last thing he could remember was a wolf of grey and white staring at him curiously. Sandor thought that it would be the one to put his life to an end after he fell back to unconsciousness, but seeing the state he was in now, it obviously did not happen.

"That little wolf bitch." He grumbled.

"You're awake." A feminine voice made itself known.

Sandor lifted his gaze from the ashy fire to a dark haired man…, no, woman who wore her hair in a short braid that cascaded over the shoulder of her leather armor and also wore men's clothing underneath. A short bow was in one hand and in the other was a grey hare with white paws that she held by the ears, drained of blood. On her back was a quiver filled with bows secured firmly over her black cloak with brown fur on the neck of it, strapped to her left thigh was a dagger, and above that was a long sword strapped to her hip. He assumed that she was right handed. Sandor particularly found the design of her long sword quite different than usual. The cross guard were two golden leaves spread apart and the pommel being a golden rose bud. Although she had the look of a northerner, her sword contained southern gold.

"Who the fuck are you?" He rasped in a hoarse voice.

The girl did not at all flinched at his choice of words, instead she went over by the satchel to set down her bow and quiver, then tossing the hare into the satchel. The girl's silence was unnerving, but he waited patiently watching her every movement. Soon enough, she came over sitting by Sandor's side with a small smile on her pretty face and glistening sapphire eyes.

"My name is Ana. I must say, I am truly honored to finally be acquainted with the infamous Hound."

It was not a surprise that this stranger knew who he was. All of Westeros knew who he was just by looking at his distorted face. As he was eyeing her curiously, he noticed the wineskin that hung around her shoulders. Sandor felt his throat suddenly go dry just by looking at it.

Ana followed his gaze realizing what he wanted. "Oh… forgive me. You have been out for days. You must be parched. Here."

As she unstrapped the wine skin from around her shoulders Sandor took the opportunity to quickly reached for Ana's dagger, but the girl was quicker. She held a similar, but different dagger to his throat stopping him midway from unsheathing the dagger on her thigh. Her speed definitely surprised him.

Ana clicked her tongue. "I figured you would do that. Now let my blade down and I will put mine down. Go against me, and I will slit your throat right here."

Sandor contemplated with his thoughts, but reluctantly let it slide back into its scabbard having Ana lower her blade as well and sheathing it into the scabbard secured on her lower back that he never noticed before. She handed the skin to him to which he eagerly grabbed and took a big gulp from it, but then spitting it out the other direction.

"Bugger the water. Where the fuck is the wine?"

Ana raised an eyebrow at that. "I used the last of my wine to clean out your wound. You, ser, will have to suffice on this for now."

Sandor grumbled and gave a nasty look before finally chugging all that remained in the water skin, satisfying his thirst. After emptying it out, he handed it back to Ana who then tossed it over by her satchel.

"I'm no ser." He corrected her earlier statement having Ana bring back her attention to him.

"Pardon?"

Sandor pushed himself up more to sit up taller against the tree. "You called me 'ser'. I took no bloody vows. I'm no ser."

Ana exaggerated a sigh. "What should I call you then? Do tell." Her tone had a hint of sarcasm on the latter.

"Hound is what most people call me."

She crossed her arms. "Do you really expect me to call you Hound the whole bloody time we are here? That is too obscured."

_**How the fuck long does this bitch expect to keep me here?**_ "Sandor, Sandor Clegane." He muttered, then looked her dead in the eyes. "You talk too much like a lady to be a commoner. You dress like a northerner, but your sword contains rose gold. Now who are you really and don't play coy with me. I know a lie when I hear one."

Ana sat quiet for a moment staring right back at the man. "I was not lying, Sandor. My name is Ana of House Tyrell and—"

"Tyrell?!" Sandor interrupted barking a laughter. "What the fuck is a Tyrell bitch doing here in the forest playing with swords?"

Ana scowl at this, but Sandor's laughter soon subsided when the sound of a twig breaking made itself known. The two were faced upon a horse sized white wolf patched in grey stalking towards them while snarling viciously, showing off it's razor sharp fangs. Sandor was as quiet as ever, sweat trickling down the side of his face trying to be as still as possible when the beast straddled him coming face to face with an icy blue glare. Sandor heard a whistle next to him having the giant wolf turning away and laying down next to Ana. "This is Winter, he is my direwolf."

Sandor let out a breath realizing that he was holding it the whole time. "What in the buggering hells is a Tyrell bitch doing with a direwolf?" He watched her as she scratched Winter's ear having the beast lay his head down closing his eyes.

"Before you had interrupted me, I was saying that I am a northerner too. My mother is Rosa Tyrell, the eldest daughter of Lord Mace and my father is Benjen Stark. I'm sure you have heard of them before. And as for Winter here, my uncle Ned gave him to me the last time I visited Winterfell. He is the biggest out of the litter." Ana stood up and strolled over to where Winter had dropped the twigs he had gathered. She spread them about the camp fire and attempted to make another fire of her own to which she managed within a few minutes, tossing in some dried leaves and grass to get the fire going. Once she was satisfied with her work, Ana went over to her satchel pulling out the dead hare from earlier. She sat some distance away from Sandor this time as she skinned the hare with her dagger. "Now it's my turn to ask the questions. Where is my cousin, Arya Stark?"

"How in the buggering hells should I know?" Sandor rasped.

"Some months ago I encountered the Brotherhood and Thoros told me that Arya had run away from them. He also told me that they had also released you that same night as well. The commoners have been saying around here that they have seen the Hound traveling up north with a boy. The way they described him sounds a lot like Arya. Now… where is she?" Her voice was stern.

"The little wolf bitch is long gone." He scoffed. "When I was left dying by the tree, she took my silver and left me to rot."

"Did she say where she was going? Do you remember anything she said that may hint to where she is?" Ana was eager for an answer. After nearly a year of searching she was finally getting closer to find where Arya was.

Sandor scratched his beard in thought. "No, but I would hear the girl say these words while she slept… Valar Morghulis."

"Valar Morghulis…" Ana tested out. "What does it mean?"

"Hell if I know! But I have a feeling that it might relate to her bloody Bravosi water dancing instructor whom she spoke of so much."

"Essos?"

Sandor nodded.

After skinning and gutting the hare, Ana stuck it on a stick, letting it roast over the fire. Sandor wondered what she was thinking as she gazed deeply into the dancing flames, but decided that it was none of his business. He looked down at his wrapped leg. "How long has it been?"

"Three days ago was when I found you. Well, he found you." She gestured to Winter. "I've made sure to change your bandages everyday. You were in bad condition. What happened?"

"Ran into some of my brother's men at the Crossroads Inn. Was not a pretty fight, but least I'm in a better state than them."

"And Arya? Did she get hurt as well?" It was obvious that the girl was concerned for her cousin's well being.

"No, the little wolf bitch is just fine."

A sudden thought came to mind which made Ana uncomfortable and hesitant her question. "Why was she with you?" She turned away from the fire to fully face Sandor.

"I was going to ransom her to her mother and brother. Possibly find myself work too." Sandor noticed the worried look Ana held and scowled. "I never touch her if that is what you're thinking."

Ana relaxed though it was a surprise to hear it come out from the Hound himself. "That is a relief." The girl stared at the ground in thought caressing the grass. "Poor girl… she is all alone and must be scared to death."

Although he did not admit it, he did have pity for the little stark bitch. Separated from her family and most of them being already brutally murdered. But despite all the shit she went through, the girl was strong. "She can handle herself."

"I hope your right."

Ana turned back to the fire to continue roasting the hare evenly. Minutes past by silently with only the soft snoring of the giant direwolf a few feet away from him and his ears slightly perked up. Sandor wondered where his dark destrier could be. Probably off wandering around these woods. It would be nearly impossible for just anyone to tame the black wild beast. Sandor watched as Ana got up from the ground walking towards him with two sticks of half a roasted hare in hands.

"Here." She gestured one of the sticks toward him for him to take.

Sandor raised a brow and eyed it suspiciously, but took it nonetheless. He waited till Ana went back to sit at her previous area before finally taking a bite into the hot, juicy meat. Each bite making his mouth water even more. He had not realized how hungry he really was as he tore off all the meat until reaching the bone, but even then licking the juices off that too. The meal warmed his belly, but did not satisfy his hunger completely. Tossing the stick and bones to the side he lifted his gaze to Ana who was still taking small bites from her part, delicately ripping strips of meat with her slender fingers. This amused Sandor. _**Dresses like a man, but still a lady underneath. Wonder if she fights as good as she talks.**_

His gaze then drifted over at her direwolf who was now awake and staring at Ana's food. Noticing the red stains on the edges and corners of his mouth, Sandor assumed that the beast already had his supper. Winter rose to his feet when his master was finished with her meal, tossing the stick and bones into the fire, then getting up herself. After kicking some dirt into the fire to die it down, she picked up the saddle next to her feet and went over to Winter to strap it around him, then hanging the satchel on the horn of it.

"We will head for Redfort and then Gulltown."

Sandor stared at her. "We?"

After checking that everything was secured onto Winter, she came over to Sandor. "Yes, we. Unless you have somewhere else to go and by the looks of that leg, it won't be very far."

Sandor pondered. There really was not anywhere else he could go and he most certainly did not want to stay here and wait for death to take him. No, he would not die a pathetic death like that.

"Bloody hells…" Sandor grunted before attempting to lift himself up from the ground. Sharp pains shot through his leg making it more difficult for him to stand. Before Sandor could fall back to his arse, he felt something tight embrace him from around his chest. Ana's arms were wrapped around him trying pull him up to which was very well helping. Once he was up, he leaned most of his weight on his left leg whilst his right arm was on Ana's shoulder holding him steady. Sandor noted that the girl was tall, but not by much compared to his towering height. She stood up to his chest.

Ana whistled sharply having Winter come over and lay in front of the pair. "You are going to have to ride Winter for a whilst so that your stitches will not open up. This will be just until you can walk again."

Sandor nodded. Hopping closer to the furry beast, Sandor bit his tongue as he slightly lifted his right leg up and then settling onto the saddle of the direwolf. He held onto the horn of the saddle as Winter stood up.

"These are yours." Sandor look down at Ana who held his long sword and dagger in both hands. The sword was almost as tall as her.

"You are giving me back my weapons?" He asked skeptically.

"I trust you enough to hold your own sword." Ana replied. "Besides, this thing is heavy. I do not want to carry it for the next couple hours." She smiled warmly.

He took the long sword and dagger strapping them both onto his sides.

"This way." Ana started walking off one direction with Winter and Sandor following by her side.

**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Reviews are always welcome! Chapter Three will be posted Sunday, April 26.**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: My apologies for the late post. Things happened and editing took longer than expected. But I hope this chapter makes up for it... Hehe.

**Chapter Three:**

The two had made camp the night before, neither hadn't much uttered a word to each other unless it was necessary. Ana was still unused to having this kind of company and she was not very much good at conversing, but then again… the Hound did not seem like one for talking, so she just kept her mouth shut. She had other matters to think about anyway.

Now it was early in the morning when Ana woke from groanings and gruntings. Sitting up from her bedroll she saw her traveling companion tossing and turning frantically in his sleep. _He must be having a nightmare…_

Standing up and going over to Sandor, she intended to wake the big man up, but stopped midway from touching him. Shaking the Hound awake would probably not be such a good idea.

"Sandor?" Ana whispered to him, but to no avail. "Pardon… erm… Sandor?"

Sandor's eyelids were shut tight and his heavy brows furrowed together, his dark hair pushed away from his face from his movements. Ana observed him curiously. The left half of his face was a twisted mass of marred red flesh and on the side was a hole where his ear is suppose to be. Of course she has done many times before when the Hound was unconscious, though she could not help, but to wonder how he got those scars.

His jerking made Ana jump back a little bit having her remember what she was suppose to do. Looking around the camp they settled in for the night, Ana tried to think how she would wake him up without getting herself killed. Spotting the waterskin near her bedroll she went over to retrieve it, then came back to Sandor's side. After uncorking it, Ana stood some inched away from him with the waterskin stretched out above his face. As she poured the cool water onto his face, he jolted up awake cursing having Ana jump back away from the Hound.

"Gah! What in the buggering hells?!" Sandor yelled as he wiped the water from his face, then scanning around. He saw Ana standing some feet away from him with an empty waterskin in hand. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice deep and dangerous.

His grey orbs held her at the spot. If looks could kill, Ana would certainly be dead by now. "You were having a nightmare."

"So you decided to pour water on me?!"

"Well how else was I suppose to wake you up?!" She matched his tone placing her hands on her hips. "You were not responding when I called your name and I didn't want you strangling me unconsciously if I shook you awake."

Sandor glared at the ground muttering some curses under his breath as he pulled himself to sit up against the tree.

Ana watched Sandor who silently stared into nothing deep in thought.

"What was it about?" She inquired.

Sandor lifted his gaze towards the highborn lady. "What?"

"Your nightmare." Ana walked back to Sandor and kneeled by his side. "I sometimes have nightmares too. Perhaps I could help you."

"It's nothing." He said gruffly.

"If you speak about your nightmares, it helps you overcome it. I remember how my Uncle Willas would-"

"I said it's nothing!" He yelled having Ana flinch back. His glare was cold as ice. "Mind your own."

Ana was disappointed by this and embarrassed for even asking. "Oh…" She said softly, then stood up. "I'm sorry for asking." Ana turned around and walked towards the little stream that was by their camp. Kneeling down on the dewy grass, she dipped her waterskin into the cold stream filling it up with water.

'_He's so unreasonable!' _Ana thought to herself. '_I only wanted to help… for his sake and mine! I could barely get any sleep with him barking through the night!' _

She was angry at him, but also understanding to his privacy. Anyway, she barely knew the man! There were some things he wanted to keep private and Ana must respect that.

Staring at her reflection in the waters, Ana remembered as a little girl she would wake up screaming at the dead of night in Highgarden with neither the comfort of a mother or father to calm her down. It was only her Uncle Willas who would come to her chamber at the time of night only to find her in tears. He would say, "Your problems will only continue to add. Keeping a lid over it will only end up exploding in your face.". Perhaps within time Sandor will speak his mind, but for now she mustn't pry.

Winter came by her right side lowering his head to the stream and taking licks of the water. Once the waterskin was filled, Ana lifted it out of the water to cork it again, her wet hand stinging from the cool morning air. The more they traveled up north, the colder it would get and with winter coming, it would only get worse.

The grating growl of Winter caught Ana's attention. The direwolf's head was lifted from the stream glaring straight ahead. Rustling of leaves could be heard behind the many of trees and bushes. _There's something there…_

Tossing the waterskin to the side, Ana slowly got to her feet and unsheathe her long sword. The sound of ringing metal echoing through the woods.

"Who's there?" She shouted, her voice full of authority. "Come out or I'll send my wolf after you." Ana waited patiently, but there was no reply. Just as she was about to say the command, a horse, black as night and a bigger beast than Winter, emerged from the trees and bushes. There was a saddle still strapped upon the horse's back so she assumed that it must have lost it's rider. Ana sheathe back her sword into it's scabbard and started to make way towards the horse who was now nibbling at the grass.

"Girl." Turning around, Ana saw Sandor already standing, most of his weight on his left leg and his hand on the trunk of the tree keeping him balanced. "If you don't want your nose bitten off, then I suggest you don't go off petting him. Hand me that stick over there." He pointed a large branch discarded on the ground.

Ana went over to retrieve it, then gave it to Sandor. He held it in his right hand holding himself up from the ground as he slowly let go on the tree. Watching him walk with it like a cane reminded Ana of her Uncle Willas walking with his cane.

"Be careful." She called when he finally made it into the small stream walking over the slippery stones. Ana's breath was caught in her throat when she saw Sandor slip and almost fall into the icy cold water, but thankfully caught himself with his cane.

"Fuck…" She heard him mutter in annoyance.

"I did warn you."

"Shut up about it."

Once Sandor was out of the water, he slowly made his way to the black destrier. The black beast lifted his head up from the dewy grass and began to neighing as he reared. Sandor stretched out his hand towards the horse while whispering calming words to it. Ana watched in awe as the nervous horse soon calmed down letting Sandor run his large hand over the horse's face. For a big man such as he, Sandor was being very gentle with the horse.

With Winter by her side, Ana walked over by Sandor who was checking the horse's hooves for any rocks jammed in between. She made sure to keep some distance away from the towering beast remembering what Sandor had said about the horse biting off her nose.

"Is that your horse?" She inquired.

"Aye."

"What is his name?"

After he finished checking all the hooves and removing the rocks, Sandor went to the satchel strapped to the saddle checking inside for anything. "Stranger."

_How ironic…_ Ana remembered how he scoffed at her last night when she was praying to the Seven before going to sleep. He had told her that there are no gods and if there were, they made sheep so wolves could eat mutton, and they made the weak for the strong to play with.

Taking Stranger by the reigns, Sandor lead his destrier to the stream to drink. Ana crossed over the stream again with Winter picking up her discarded waterskin and then to her bedroll. Rolling up her bedroll and then tying it to the back of Winter's saddle she looked up to Sandor who was still by Stranger grooming his mane with a brush.

"Now that you have your horse back, are you going to be on your way?"

Sandor snorted at the question. "On my way to what? There is nothing for me here. I have no lands and everywhere I go I'm a walking bag of silver for killing Lannister men. No, I'll help you find your cousin," His voice became softer. "but only if you want."

Despite his rudeness, he would be very helpful. It had been years since the last time she saw Arya. Not only has she grown over time, but she is disguising as a boy. Ana might not be able to recognize her, but Sandor might be able to point her out easily. "I would appreciate that." She smiled warmly.

Sandor said nothing, but instead inclined his head.

After taking a minute to swept around the perimeter to make sure nothing was forgotten, Ana saddled onto Winter. "We should get going. Time is gold. The longer we wait, the further Arya is. And we better hurry, winter is coming. Camping out in the woods won't be the same with the cold biting us in the arse." Sandor raised an eyebrow at her unlady like choice of words. Ana reached into her satchel pulling out a red, ripe apple. "We won't have enough time to hunt. Have this." She tossed it to Sandor who caught it with one hand.

Instead of taking a big bite out of the apple, Sandor ripped the apple in half giving one half to Stranger and keeping the other half to himself. Stranger munched the apple vigorously eating every bit of it including the seeds. When Sandor was finished with his half of the apple, which did not take very long, he tossed the cane to the ground so it would not be in the way for him to saddle Stranger. He struggled to get up, scrunching his face to try to ignore the sharp pains of his leg, but within time he was able to fully get on top.

Ana looked down at the branch. "Won't you be needing that?"

He grimaced. "Bugger that. I could still walk without it."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself." Ana urged Winter to walk a certain direction to which he did. "This way."

The pair rode for hours in silence. Ana leading the way and Sandor following beside her. Both were still unused to each other's company, but dealing with the fact that it will be like this for quite some time. It soon fell to comfortable silence.

Ana began to wonder how things were in Highgarden. The last time she was there, her Aunt Margaery and Uncle Loras had just left with an army of Tyrell soldiers. Uncle Willas had told her that night that they plan on making Margaery queen and if they continue supporting the King's cause, Joffrey would be in our debt.

Her family had intended to take her cousin, Sansa Stark, away from the capitol. She was to wed Willas and be under their protection, but unfortunately Lord Tywin foiled it by arranging the marriage with Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf. Though, making Margaery queen still stood.

Of course, the plan had worked for a time until Joffrey was mysteriously poisoned leaving Margaery, yet again, with no crown to wear and no kingdoms to rule. Ana knew that her family would have a backup plan. They were Tyrells; they always had a backup plan.

The sound of coughing pulled back her attention. Ana looked to her side and saw Sandor coughing vigorously.

"Sounds like a nasty cough." She pointed out.

Sandor grinded his throat to clear it. "It's nothing. It'll pass." His voice was a bit hoarse.

Simply shrugging her shoulders, Ana continued onto a different topic for conversation. "What was it like working for the Lannisters?" Information about the lions was much needed if her family was going to be plotting against them.

"Shit." He scoffed. "They were a pathetic lot. I'm just glad the little shit of a king got what he deserved."

Ana looked at her companion curiously. "Were you not his loyal dog?"

"Even a dog gets tired of being kicked."

"Was he really as bad as they say?"

Sandor nodded. "Worse even."

"I suppose I should be thankful then. Margaery won't have to deal with his cruelty. It wasn't her choice, you know, to marry Joffrey and become queen. It was my grandfather's, Lord Mace. He has always dreamed for his daughter to become queen and when he saw another opportunity he took it, forcing Margaery into another marriage." There was a hint of anger in her voice.

A week after Renly's murder, Margaery had came to Ana's tent that night in tears saying that her father will have an alliance with the Lannisters and that she will be betroth to King Joffrey. Aside from Renly's hobbies, Margaery had loved Renly since she was a little girl. He was always so kind to her and Ana. So suddenly forcing her into another marriage right after his death was painful to bear. The following day during one of their family's council meeting, Margaery wore her usual smile for her father to hide the hurt underneath. She was always good at that. It wouldn't be a surprise if Lord Mace continued Margaery to marry Prince Tommen instead, now that Joffrey is dead.

"Men do anything for power and there's only two ways of getting it. War and marriage. Your grandfather chose the easier route." Sandor said.

"Power," Ana scoffed. "power leads to dictation and where is freedom in dictation?"

"Reason why I left Kings Landing."

A groaning noise made itself known not too far from where the two were. "Did you hear that?" Ana was facing east.

"Hear what?"

"I heard something." The low noise echoed again. "This way!" Ana urged for Winter to run in the direction the noise came from.

"Oi! Where are you going?!" Sandor bellowed, but was never met with a reply. Kicking the sides of his saddle, Sandor followed Ana some meters behind.

Eventually, Ana came to a stop once she was sure that whatever the noise was coming from was now walk distance. Sliding off of Winter, she made her way to a tree, hiding behind it. As she peaked around it, she saw four men- possibly bandits beating down a poor man.

"Please!" The man was on his knees begging to a bald headed bandit with a broken nose. "Just take the wagon! It's all I have. Just take it!"

The bald man laughed. "Don't play coy, old man. What's there in your pockets?"

"He's probably hiding some silver in there!" Said the other blonde bearded bandit.

The old man started ruffling through his pockets, pulling out a silver chain. "It's a gift for my daughter! Please, let me go!"

The bald bandit, whom Ana assumed was the leader of the group, snatched the silver chain from the old man's hands. "How can a peasant afford a nice lookin' chain like this one?"

"It took me years to save enough coin. It's a gift for my daughter's name day."

"Heh, well looks like she won't be gettin' it anytime soon." Said the shorter bandit while grinning mischievously.

"Girl!" A hand grabbed Ana's shoulder, wheeling her around having her face her tall, distorted companion. He did not seem too fazed by his wounded leg, but he was leaning most of his weight on the left side. "What in the bloody hells do you think you're doing?" He hissed quietly so that the bandits would not hear them.

Ana pulled away from his tight grip. "I need to go help the him!"

"And do what? Woo them with a pretty song?"

Ana scowled at that. "I'll fight them. Just enough to scare them away."

Sandor laughed lowly. "Aren't you the little wolf. Does the little wolf have claws too?" He taunted. "A little scratch isn't going to do anything. It's either kill or be killed."

Ana ignored his remark. She slid the bow off her shoulder, then picked out an arrow from her quiver, setting both into place. "Just watch." Ana moved from around the tree to face the three bandits who were still beating the poor old man. Ana shot out a sharp whistle getting their attention.

All three of the bandits looked up from their victim. "The fuck you want?"

"Leave that man alone and give back his belongings! Do this and I may reconsider letting this arrow fly." She pulled back the string to make her point.

For a moment, all the bandits gave each other a look before bursting into laughter, but Ana held her ground. Once the laughter subsided the bald bandit spoke up. "There is three of us and one of you, and I doubt a little girl like yourself can manage." He pulled out a dagger and began stalking towards Ana.

Once she was sure that he would not back down, Ana released the arrow, but instead of piercing through the man's chest like it was meant to, it pierced into the tree behind the group, only slightly grazing the fabric of the bald man's forest green tunic on the arm.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She heard Sandor rasp from behind the tree for only her to hear. Ana's face turned a slight shade of red.

Something wet began soaking the tunic to a crimson. Reaching for his arm where the arrow grazed, the bald man winced. It seems that Ana had actually sliced through something other than a piece of fabric. "You little bitch! You'll be sorry!"

The bald man ran towards her with his dagger in hand. Ana quickly reached for another arrow pulling it out from her quiver, but before she could set it on the string, the man was already close enough to stab her in the neck. She'd be bleeding out now on the forest grass if it wasn't for Winter running in and pouncing onto the man, ripping and tearing at his flesh. The man screamed out for help in anguished cries that was soon muffled by the gurgling of blood.

"Fredrick!" The short one cried out for his leader who now laid lifeless in a pool of blood on the ground with Winter still gnawing at his insides.

"You'll pay for this!" Yelled the blonde one.

Both men drew their swords out with angry looks on their faces. The blonde charged forward followed by the short one. As the two ran forward, Ana threw down her bow and swiftly drew out her longsword having to blocked a hard blow to her head, exposing the blonde man's chest allowing her to kick him off balance and tumble to the ground.

The short one came swinging his sword wildly at Ana to which she dodged by swiveling her foot moving to the side and stopping his sword from slicing through her leg with her sword. He grunted in frustration and swung his sword again, and again in different directions, but each one being stopped by Ana's sword or dodged by her swift movements. The man would not stop. When Ana would throw him off balance to the ground, he would get back up, determined to kill her. _It's either kill or be killed. _Sandor was right. There seemed no other way to end this, the man was crazed with revenge for his friend. Blocking the man's blow coming down from above, Ana, with one swift movement, sliced across his abdomen. The short man was still for a moment, his eyes only showing fear and terror as his sword slipped out his grip. His gaze dropped down to his stomach seeing that blood began spewing out along with his guts sliding out of place. The sight had horrified her, but she had to finish him off. Ana plunged her blade through his chest and out, and she watched as he dropped to his knees, then to the ground while more blood trickled down the corners of his mouth. He made no other movements indicating himself to be dead.

She fell to her knees in both weariness and disbelief in front of the bleeding corps and for a moment, she was stunned. Ana had killed her first man.

A grunting caught her attention. Lifting her gaze from the body she saw the blonde man she threw down earlier now standing over looking at her with a deadly stare. "You're dead now." There wasn't anything Ana could do as he raised up his sword over his head. She was completely frozen. Just as the blonde was about to bring down his sword upon her, he was stopped still by a blade emerging from his chest and out. He began coughing out blood and as he turned around, he was met with a cold steel dagger slicing across his throat. Reaching for his neck, the blonde man tried his best to stop his bleeding, but to no avail and within second he dropped to the ground as a corps.

"What in the bloody hells do you think you're doing getting yourself killed like that?!" Sandor rasped. He was limping, but leaning most of his weight on his good leg.

Ana watched him as he wiped off the blood off both his blade on the blonde's tunic. "I...I- uh." She still could not believe the happenings. Her only intentions were to scare them off. No one was suppose to die.

"Hmph… But I'll admit, the little wolf has bite." His gaze drifted over to Winter who was very much enjoying his meal. "Bloody bastard had it coming."

"Help…" A small voice called out.

Both Ana and Sandor's attention turned in the direction of the voice. It was the old man. They had almost forgotten about him. Pushing herself up, Ana strode towards the old man who laid still on the ground. She kneeled next to him. "Are you alright? What is your name?"

The old man coughed a little. "Thank you for saving me. My name is Firth Caine." His voice quivered a bit.

Ana noticed his black tunic clinging to his abdomen and found that it was sticky wet. "You're bleeding!"

"The one your large dog killed stabbed me before you came."

"I'm sorry I was not here in time…"

"Don't be." He coughed again. "Please… bring me…" Firth pointed to the silver chain that had been dropped by Fredrick when he was charging for Ana.

Sandor picked up the silver chain and brought it to Firth who took it gingerly in his wavering hands. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

The old man had already lost a lot of blood and his skin was going pale. Ana could not lie to him, but she did not have the heart to tell him either so she just nodded.

Firth sighed. "I suppose I have lived long enough..."

"Is there anything you want us to do for you?"

Firth looked up with hopeful eyes. "There is one thing... but the favor may be too much and I do not want to be a bother. You both have done enough."

Ana shook her head. "Not at all. What is it?"

"My daughter, Clarissa, it will be her name day is soon and I am afraid that-"

"You want us to give her the chain for you." Ana finished in more of a statement than a question.

"Please."

"Where is she?"

"With her mother across the Narrow Sea in Pentos. I know that is far and I understand if you cannot-"

"You needn't to worry, Firth. We were already heading to Braavos. Pentos is on the way. I will make sure that Clarissa receives her gift." Ana offered a reassuring smile to ease his worries.

"Oh bless you, child! How could I ever-" Firth began coughing violently whilst jerking his head up to cough out the blood that was building up in his throat. When it subsided, he laid his head back down, staring at the sky with tired eyes and breathless.

Ana brushed Firth's grey hair from his eyes. "Pay me in nothing." She said in a hushed tone. "Put aside all anxious thoughts and be at peace now. Clarissa will have her gift."

He nodded, then looked to Sandor who stood over the pair emotionless. "Make it a quick one, will you?"

Sandor kneeled on his left knee by Firth's side and pulled out his steel dagger. When Ana saw Firth's hand starting to tremble, she took it in hers and whispered, "Shh, look at the sky, Firth. Isn't it a beautiful day?"

He stared up and gave a small smile. "Yes, it is. The best we have this whole month." Within seconds, the light in his eyes faded away and became dark and lifeless. His body was still, but his smile stayed. When she saw Sandor pull out his dagger from Firth's chest, she knew it he was with the gods now.

Ana ran a hand over Firth's dark eyes and said a prayer to the gods for his soul's well being, then stood up when she was finished. After Sandor wiped off the blood from his blade and sheathed it back to his side, he stood as well, though as he did so obvious pain was shown on his face having him stumble over, but catching himself by holding onto the tree's trunk.

"Damn it." He winced.

Quickly coming to his side, Ana noticed a tiny red stain on his brown trousers that was not there before, just over his wrapped wound. "You've opened your stitches."

Just as Sandor was about to reply, he began coughing hard, worse than he did earlier. Color was fading from his skin and he stood in a weak posture. Ana reached to feel his forehead to which she found was burning hot. "And you have a fever."

"I told you, it's nothing. It'll pass." He said breathlessly.

"Not in this condition. I need to disinfect your wound again and I do not have the materials to do so. We need to find an inn. I think there may be one close by, we may reach it by nightfall if we hurry."

When Sandor did not protest, she held onto his right side to help him walk to his black desterier. He could barely hold himself up. Most of his weight was leaning on Ana. The big man struggled to pull himself atop his horse, but he managed. Ana then saddled her direwolf, but not before making sure the silver chain was safely tucked away into her satchel.

She saw that Sandor was slouching awkwardly on his saddle and noted to herself that they will need to be quick. "Don't you die on me now."

Sandor laughed weakly. "I don't intend on dying out this way, little wolf."

**A/N: Hoped you liked the chapter. What did you think? Please leave a review to let me know. As for the next chapter, I don't have a specific date to post it since this week has been busy with upcoming exams, but I promise it won't take too long. Till then, happy readings 3**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello, fellow readers! Took longer than expected... Just graduated high school and went on vacation for a few weeks. The wait was terrible, but it's finally here! I'd like to give a shout out to Warmachine375 (check out his stories), my friend Carolynn, and my writing buddy Mariah. All right, let's begin!

**Chapter Four:**

**Ana**

The sun was setting down filling the skies with hues of orange and red. Darkness began to creep upon the forest floors making it more difficult to navigate for the two weary travelers. Ana and Sandor had been riding for hours with no stops. She was determine to find an inn before sun down, but to no avail. There hadn't been any spotted throughout the whole ride.

Sandor's coughs never went unnoticed. At each passing hour it had gotten worse with the amount of phlegm building up in his throat and even without coughing, his breathing had become breathless. His riding posture slackened, leaning atop the horse's neck to rest. All the color had left his face and for a moment, Ana thought she was traveling with a corps.

She was beginning to worry, not that she cared much for the big man. She felt responsible for the cause of his illness, thinking that perhaps she had not clean out the wound thoroughly enough. After all, she did have very little wine in the wineskin to make use of at the time. It was all sloppy work and carelessness.

A growling noise from her stomach made itself know, having her realize that they had not eaten anything, but half an apple and save for the few pieces of dried meat. Their rations were less and if they could not find an inn for the night, then they would have to eat the little remains of what they have left; which really wasn't much. The only thing that Ana had that was plentiful was the pouch of silver tucked inside her satchel, but with the situation they were in, even coin would not fill an empty stomach.

The forest was nearly consumed in darkness. Ana knew that now they would have to settle to make camp. "Sandor." She cooed softly. His weak form stood up a little in his saddle at her attention, but did not face her. "We must make camp."

He did not respond and Ana grew worried.

"Did you hear me? There are no inns to be found. We must make camp before we lose the light."

"Light…" Sandor said hoarsely.

Ana began to grow impatient. "Yes, light... If it gets any darker, then it will be harder for us to find twigs to make a fire out of."

"No," He said tiredly. "...there."

Ana followed his gaze up ahead and saw a flicker of light off at the distance. She couldn't believe it.

"What luck!" She exclaimed before kicking her heels for Winter to make haste with Sandor following behind.

It did not take too long for the two to arrive in front of the small inn with the sign that read 'The Rocky Inn'. Ana quickly slid off her direwolf and made way for Stranger, but stopped dead in her tracks when the black beast began throwing his head up and down nervously. Sandor slid himself off the tall beast and held the reins to keep him at bay.

"Go on. I will bring Stranger to the stables." He said tiredly.

Ana eyed him curiously and noticed Sandor slightly shivering. "You are too weak. We need to get you inside right away."

Sandor snorted. "It will only take a few minutes. Stranger will kill anyone who will come near him. I'm the only one who can tame the bloody beast."

"Fine. But be quick about it. I don't want to come back and find you dead in the stables. I think the landlord will fine me extra to get you cleared out."

Sandor laughed. "Don't worry, little wolf. I'm not dying anytime soon." And with that, he limped away towards the dimmed stables with Stranger at his side.

Making her way back to Winter, she undid the straps of the saddle and removed it from the wolf's back, tucking the heavy thing under her arm. Ana stood face to face with the wolf, making sure he was paying attention. Dark blue eyes mirrored each other, almost as if they were the same person.

"Go…" Ana whispered whilst scratching behind Winter's furry ear. "hide."

At that command, the giant wolf swiftly made a turned and descended deep into the woods and disappearing into the darkness. After a few moments to make sure Winter was safely hidden, Ana descended towards the Rocky Inn. A warm gust of air blew past her cold cheeks as she opened the door and she noticed the many candles that surrounded the room. It warmed her body.

"Good evenin', ma'am." An old fat man greeted from behind a desk. "How can I be o' service to ya?"

Ana walked towards the desk. "I need a room for tonight. For my companion and I."

"Would that be one o' two?"

"Just one." Ana knew it was improper to share a room with a man she barely knew, but now was not the time for propriety and she needed to save as much as she can during this mission until she receives the next payment from Uncle Willas.

"That be four silver."

After handing him the coins, the man wrote down a few words and numbers down a list on parchment paper before finally handing her a brass key. "Upstairs, second door on yer right."

Ana said her thanks, then quickly made her way upstairs to find their room. She placed the key into its lock, unlocking it, and pushed it open. Of course, it was not like the usual rooms in Highgarden filled with luxury, she knew that. Just a simple run down inn with the usual small fireplace, a small round table with two chairs, and a clean bed fit for two. Tossing her saddle and satchel to the corner of the room, Ana ran back down and out to the stables.

She was relieved to find that Sandor had not died on her, but calmly running his palm over the face of his destrier.

"Everything is set now. Let's get you inside."

Sandor nodded before turning to walk- limp towards her. He had almost reached her until a strong cough erupted from his chest having him lose his balance and fall to one knee.

"Sandor!" Ana cried as she ran to his side.

"Damn it all!" He cursed breathlessly in pain, though the coughing continued.

"Let me help you!" She tried to make a grab for his arm, but stopped when Sandor hunched over and began heaving out amounts of stomach acids to the dirt. He then collapsed on his side right beside his vomit.

Ana ran into the inn with a frantic look on her face taking the inn keeper by surprise. "Help me, please! My companion… he's ill and just collapsed out front! I cannot carry him myself. Please help me bring him inside!"

The old man furrowed his brows together. "O', yes, of course. Let me jus' get me boy. We'll be right out there."

Running back outside, she found him the way she had left him. Sandor was breathing heavily and still coughing occasionally. The red stain on his trousers was no longer small, but now a large patch of crimson clinging to his thigh. The wound was fully opened.

The old fat man and a tall brunette boy no older than ten and seven came rushing through the door towards Ana.

"Over here!" She called out, gesturing towards Sandor.

The two men went to each side and slung both of Sandor's arms on their shoulders.

"He's a big one!" The old man gasp.

"Just bring him to the room, please. There I can tend to his wound and fever."

The old man nodded. "Me wife is inside. Jus' tell 'er want you would be needin'."

"Yes, thank you." Ana followed the two men inside and watched them carry Sandor upstairs. An old woman of grey hair stood by the stairs, also watching the happenings. There was a look of pity on her face when her eyes met Ana's.

"What is it ye need, dear?" She asked calmly.

"Many things. Two bottles of wine, but if you do not have any, ale will suffice. One of the bottles must be boiled and brought to me in a bowl. I need two rags, bandages, a needle, some thread, and a bowl of water."

The old woman nodded her head and said calmly, "You go on upstairs and I will bring 'em to ya."

Ana took the woman's hands and gave a genuine squeeze of her appreciation. "Seven blessings to you!" Then went off upstairs in a hurried pace.'

Grunting and groaning could be heard down the hall. Walking through the open door to the room, Ana found Sandor laid upon the bed in just his plain clothes; a dirtied white tunic and his brown trousers.

"We took off his armor so he'll be more comfortable." Said the inner keeper's son as he pointed to the corner of the room where laid Sandor's weapons, armor, and chainmail along with her own belongings.

The weak figure upon the bed began to cough vigorously again. "Sandor!" Ana ran to the side of the bed, opposite of the innkeeper and his son.

Her eyes scanned over Sandor's stained right leg. As gently as she could, Ana rolled up his pant leg, then unraveled the red bandages filling her nostrils with the familiar raw stench of blood. The wound was not as bad as she thought it would be. After some process of healing, the wound was not as deep as it was before, which was good, but it still bleed profoundly and needed new stitching.

The innkeeper's wife came rushing in with a basket hung in the crook of her arm filled with all the requested necessities and two bowls of different liquids; one of steaming amber and the other being neutral water. She set the items on the table and said: "We don't 'ave any wine, but 'ere is some ale instead. Strongest we 'ave. Is there anything else ya need?"

Ana thought for a moment and remembered the bundle of herbs she collected during her journey through the woods. Going for her satchel, Ana pulled out a stem of elderflowers. The flowers were partially dried, but still it's usual creamy white self with a hue of yellow on the tip of the petals.

She handed the stem to the old woman. "Boil these flowers in a pot of water to make tea out of and if you can, boil with cut ginger. Please remember to only boil the flowers and not the stem or leaves for they are toxic."

The old woman nodded in understanding. "I'll take care of that. You go on and take care of him." Then went out the door.

The first thing Ana grabbed from the basket was the unopened bottle of ale. After uncorking it, she sterilized her hands with the amber liquids, not caring that it dripped on the dusty floorboards, then wiped off the excess with a rag and tossing it on her shoulder. The bottle was still half full, so she handed it to the innkeeper telling him to have Sandor drink the remains of it. Ana came back to the bedside with the steaming bowl of ale and an extra rag rolled up.

"Bite." She said after Sandor had drank most of the ale. He groaned lowly before biting onto the rolled rag.

Turning back to her work, Ana grabbed the rag over her shoulder and dipped it into the now cooled bowl of ale. It wasn't too hot, just warm and safe enough that she squeeze out the liquids over his wounds and dabbing the sides. She did this repeatedly and each time Sandor would shut his eyes and groan in pain.

When she was finished cleaning the wound and the mess around it, Ana returned the bowl to the table and pulled out a curved needle. Making sure to sterilize that too, she brought it over the candle light to burn, then dropped it in the bowl of water to cool. When the needle and thread was readied, Ana prepared herself for the unnerving part. It was easy sewing up his wound the first time because he was unconscious, but now with Sandor being conscious added more pressure on her. She saw her hands begin to tremble as she held the needle and his low groans did not help at all.

'You can do this.' Ana thought to herself. 'It is the same as before. Only difference is that he is awake!'

Ana blew out a sigh to calm herself and when she saw her hands were not trembling anymore, she was ready to perform the surgery.

"Hold still." She said to Sandor as calmly as she could. "Bite down as hard as you want, but do not move anything else."

Sandor spat out the rag. "Fucking hells! Give me the bloody ale!" The innkeeper's boy gave Sandor the bottle and downed all that remained, not caring about the drips of amber trickling into his beard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then brought back the rag to his mouth to bite on. By the looks of his steady breathing, Ana knew that he was ready and so she began.

Sandor was being a good dog by doing what he was told. His loud groans did not go unnoticed, but he did not move which made it easier for Ana as she pierced through the flesh. His only movements were the clenching of the fists and occasional turnings of the head. The torment was slow, but steady and when she looked up she saw the terrified look on the young boy's face.

"Be glad this isn't you." Ana said to the boy, then going back to her work.

By the time Ana was finished, Sandor's tunic was drenched in sweat, his face pale, and eyes sunken in. Again, she took the bowl of wine and gently dabbed at the stitches to clean off the trickles of blood that ran from his pierced flesh. After wrapping his thigh in clean bandages, Ana tiredly sat herself in a nearby wooden chair. It was finally over.

"'Ere's the tea, dear. I boiled it with ginger just like ya said." The old woman said as she entered the room with a tankard of scalding tea.

"Please, if you would, have him drink it." Said Ana with tired eyes.

The old woman did as Ana requested by lifting Sandor's heavy head and helping him drink from the tankard. But just one sip was enough for Sandor spit out the liquids.

"What is that shite?!" He uttered hoarsely.

"Elderflower tea. The bitterness you must have tasted might have been the ginger."

"I'm not drinkin' this."

Ana glared. "Oh yes you are. You'll be amazed at the wonders it will do you when you wake in the morning. This will not go to waste, now drink."

The innkeeper, his wife, and boy stood there in uncomfortable silence as the two travelers glared at each other for some moments before Sandor finally gave in. He snatched the tankard from the old woman's grasp, muttered a few curses, then tipping his head back to take big gulps, trying to finish the tea as fast as he could. When he was done, Sandor gave back the cup to the old woman and laid his head back onto the pillow with closed eyes.

The innkeeper had already left by the time Sandor was finished, leaving the old woman and her son.

"If ya need anything else, jus' call for me. My name is Edna."

Ana gave a weary smile. "Thank you, Edna. I really appreciate your help."

Edna smiled back. "Think nothing of it. Jus' doin' my duty, dear. You're too young to be a widow jus' yet."

Ana's eyes went wide. "Oh no, he's not my-"

"Come now, Braden. It's past yer bedtime." Edna called to her son, then descended out the door.

Ana looked towards Braden who was still standing by Sandor's bedside silently staring. It wasn't Sandor's newly wrapped thigh he was staring at or the mess of blood on the white linen, but his face. Braden's brows were furrowed together in curiosity as he leaned over Sandor to get a closer look at his scars. Ana cleared her throat to which startled the young boy and having him blush in shame.

"Could you bring me water for my bath, please? As you can see, I'm quite in need of one." She chuckled.

Braden nodded a little too quickly that Ana thought his head would fall off. "Yes, miss. Right away." Then rush out the door, closing it behind him.

Ana sighed before forcing herself up and bringing the bowl of water by his bedside once more. By the sound of the big man's soft snoring, it had seemed that he was fast asleep. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Ana took the rag Sandor had spat out earlier, dipped it in the cool water, and began dabbing gently at his forehead, face, and neck, wiping away all the sweat and grim. She didn't have to do it, but she did anyway.

'It's the least I can do after saving my life.'

The event of this morning suddenly flash in her mind. Shouting, the singing of metal against metal, and blood… so much blood. Why was it so shocking to her to see so much blood? It was not as if she had not seen amounts of blood like that before, but then again, she was never the cause of it. She had never taken a man's life before.

When she look down, Ana gasped in horror at the sight of her hands. They were covered in blood just like this morning. Her hands began to tremble just like before and found herself back against the wall. She could see three corps laid before her feet and a pool of blood trailing towards her.

"No, no, no! This was not supposed to happen! This was never my intention!" She yelled at the lifeless bodies.

'Kill or be killed.' Echoed a voice in her head.

"I only wanted to scare them off! They could have lived, but- but he attacked me! He attacked me first!"

'Kill or be killed.' The voice echoed again.

Ana held her head with both bloodied hands as the pool of blood surrounded her boots.

"Kill…" She said quietly. "Kill… kill!" A low chuckle turned into a tormented laugh as she sunk down to the floor, not caring about her trousers soaking from the sickly red liquid.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts having her hallucination vanish instantly. The bodies were nowhere to be seen, there was no pool of blood, and her trousers were not soaked. Her hands though were not as bloodied as she thought they were, only stains of faded red.

"It wasn't real." She whispered to herself. "This is Sandor's blood."

At the sound of his name, Ana looked up worriedly, but was relieved to know that the big man was still sound asleep.

A knock echoed again and Ana stood up. "Come in." She called.

Braden came into the room with two buckets of scalding water, then going to the wooden tub by the corner and poured in its contents. He turned to Ana. "I'll come back with more, miss." Then was out the door.

It wasn't until the door closed that Ana realized that she had dropped the rag to the floor. She sighed tiredly. Anyway, she was finished cleaning Sandor's face. She picked up the rag and bowl, and placed it back on the table. She needed to clear her mind so she went towards the half-filled tub. The steam coming up warmed her face and when Ana stared at her reflection in the water, she was disgusted with herself. Dirt and grim covered her face making her skin look darker than what it actually is and greasy strands from her dark braided hair fell loose around her face.

Ana chuckled to herself. "Grandmother would have a fit if she were to see me now." Her hand went out to touch the water, but retreated back when her fingers met the liquid. It was still too hot.

Subtle movements from behind caught Ana's attention. She wanted to face palm herself at her realization. She was going to bathe with Sandor in the room.

Ana began to panic. How was she going to bathe without him looking? Ana was a girl of modesty and a well raised lady. Sharing the same room with a man she barely knew was enough, but bathing with him in the room?! Ana stared back at her reflection. Her thoughts were at war. Oh how much she yearned to be clean again.

'But he's sleeping. He won't notice.' She thought. 'I will be quick and by the time I am finished, he won't even notice.'

At that final thought, Ana had made her decision. She unclasped her cloak and began untying her own leather shoulderplates and breastplates, then her weapons and tossing them along with her belongings to the side, leaving her in only a black tunic, brown trousers, and black boots. Her own stench reached her nose having her give off an odd expression.

"Good gods, I stink! That bath won't be enough to rid of the smell." Ana scanned around the room until her eyes landed on her satchel. "I've an idea."

Again, she went for her satchel and pulled out another stem of elderflowers. This one wasn't as dry as the previous one. This one was completely pale and gave off a wonderful refreshing floral smell that reminded her of the summers in Highgarden. Ana smiled to herself. She would use the flowers for her bath.

**A/N: This was originally going to be longer, but decided to split it into two chapters. The next one is almost finished with writing, then will be going through editing, so won't take too long. So did you like this chapter? Please leave me a review. I love reading them and are great motivators. Also, what did you think of season five of Game of Thrones? Let me know. Love you all!**

**One more thing. Want to stay updated with BWR, roleplay with Ana, or just see what the little garden wolf is up to? **

**Follow Ana on Twitter: TheGardenWolf**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you for waiting. Now for your patience and support, here is chapter five! Enjoy.

**Chapter Five:**

**Sandor**

Morning came and the throbbing at Sandor's head seemed to vanish. He felt better than he did last night. He had slept peacefully, his breathing felt clear, and not a cough emerged from his chest. That shite of a tea had truly fixed him up. Though he still felt weak in his limbs, it was still better than last night.

As Sandor slowly woke, his eyes were met with the bright stinging light streaming through the window. He growled in a hoarse voice, then quickly shielded his eyes with his palm. His large hand in tact with his skin, he felt the small drops of sweat on his forehead. At first he thought it was just the passing fever, but then he noticed how humid it felt in the room. They were only by Redfort, it shouldn't be this humid.

A swishing noise made itself known, but Sandor paid no mind to it, thinking it was just in his head. The sound of his own stomach growling allowed him to wonder what he would eat today. He was a starving man. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a full meal. Only been living on scraps of dried meat, apples, and if he was lucky, rabbit. In attempt to sit himself up, his body said otherwise and greeted him with a jolt of pain, so he stayed still instead.

"Fucking hells." He muttered. Sandor was never this dependant before and he hated it. "Where in the hells is the little wolf?"

Another swishing noise was sounded and this time Sandor angrily turned his head toward the direction of where it came. He nearly choked on his own saliva. Near the corner of the room was Ana's bare back turned towards him bathing in a tub of water. Her dark hair was no longer tied in a braid like he was used to seeing, but now cascaded down her pale back. Her arm was thrown over one side of the tub and her head laying on it as a cushion. She made no movements save for her steady breathing.

"Little wolf must've fallen asleep."

Sandor wasn't sure whether or not he should wake her. Though, he remembered how tired she looked last night. Perhaps he should just let her rest, she needed it. His hunger could wait a bit longer. Well… depending on how one would interpret 'hunger'.

Sandor couldn't help, but stare at her small form. He tried to turn his head the other direction, but each time the damn sunlight would shine upon her wet skin and glisten at the corner of his eyes bringing back his attention. And his mind was no different. He began to wonder how Ana would look if she was faced towards- He shook his head to rid of that thought, but his body said otherwise. At Sandor's imagination, his manhood rose, but he quickly pulled the wool blanket over for cover. One couldn't really blame him, he was a man after all.

Sandor ran a large hand over his scarred face. "You damn dog..."

Knocking rapped from the door and Sandor silently cursed to himself.

"Good mornin', deary. Are you awake yet?" Called the old woman; Edna was her name.

Ana began to stir in the water.

"Hello?" Edna called again.

This time Ana lifted her head towards the door; she hadn't noticed yet. "Hmm? Yes?" She said sleepily.

"We've got breakfast made, deary. Will ye be joinin'?"

"Mm.. Later. We will be down soon."

"Alright, jus' let me know if ye need anythin'." When her footsteps faded away, he knew the old hag was gone.

At this moment, Sandor could have laid his head back down and pretended to still be sleeping, but he didn't. That thought did not occur to him until finally sapphire orbs met grey and at the sight of her dark wet hair swept back from her pale face, her rosy cheeks, and the water that dripped from the tip of her small nose, he could have thought her to be a water nymph.

"Y-you're awake!" Ana squealed as she sunk deeper into the tub to hide her modesty. He saw her face blush profoundly to a beet red.

"You're bathing…" He pointed out, still in disbelief.

"Don't look at me!" She yelled.

Sandor dropped his head onto the pillow having only to stare at the ceiling.

"Cover your eyes!"

He covered his eyes with his large hand.

"Good gods! Not like that! I don't trust you!"

Sandor was getting impatient. "What would you have me fucking do?!" He said through clenched teeth.

"Um… The pillow! Yes, shield your eyes with the pillow and don't you dare remove it or else!"

Sandor would have laughed at her little threat, but now was not the time so he obeyed her requests like a good dog, placing his feathered pillow over his face. He listened carefully at the sounds of her light footsteps pacing across the room and it wasn't even five minutes till she finally said: "I'm decent now."

Placing the pillow back underneath his head, he saw Ana standing before him at the end of the bed dressed in a fresh black tunic, brown trousers, and her usual black boots, but her hair still down and soaking the tip her shoulders.

He raised an amused eyebrow at her. "You're a fast one."

"A great factor I have, especially in this situation." She crossed her arms angrily. "Did you see anything?"

"No." But Ana continued giving an accusing look. Sandor sighed. "You know I wouldn't lie."

"Hmph, sounds like something a liar would say." Ana uncrossed her arms and awkwardly attempted to broach onto a different subject. "How are you feeling?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern.

"You were right about the damn tea."

Ana came round the bed and stood by his side, placing a slender hand over his forehead. Sandor was a bit uncomfortable.

"Your fever has reduced. That is good. But you will still have to drink more of the tea just to be sure."

Sandor groaned. "Your damn woman's drink will be the death of me."

Ana laughed at his irony. "Are you able to stand?"

Sandor attempted once again to pull himself in sitting position. He had to bite his tongue against the pain as Ana helped him up. "Just give it some time." He said as he leaned against the headboard.

Ana noded. "I suppose that you'd rather break your fast in here then?"

"Would be best."

She strided towards the door and called for the old hag whom came up within seconds.

"Yes, deary?" Edna was wiping her hands on her dirtied apron. She must have been cooking.

"My, umm… husband cannot walk downstairs yet. Can we, perhaps, break our fast up here instead?" Ana asked awkwardly.

Edna clasped her hands together in a happy gesture. "Of course! Won't be a problem. Would ye also like Braden to run another bath for yer husband?"

Ana gazed over her shoulder eyeing Sandor from head to toe, then turning back to the woman. "That would be nice and a bottle of vinegar. Do you also happen to have anymore of the tea from last night?"

Edna noded. "Quite plentiful."

"Please bring a pitcher of that too."

"Will do. I'll be off now."

"Thank you."

After closing the door, Sandor stared at an awkward looking Ana. "Husband?"

She blushed. "She assumed last night when you were sleeping."

"And you didn't tell her?"

"How could I? You should know yourself how it is around here! If an unmarried woman shares a room with a man it's considered improper. And with a family running this inn, they would think me a harlot and throw us out!"

Sandor barked out a laugh.

"This isn't funny!" Ana said angrily, but the big man kept laughing. "Hey!"

Ana waited for his laughter to subside and when it did she said: "Finished?"

"Little wolf, it isn't common for a fucking harlot to show up at an inn with a man an inch from death and able to perform everything a healer could do. You could have said you were my bloody squire and they would have believed it!" He chuckled.

Ana's faced turned redder. "Well, it's too late now. You don't have to do much. Just sit there as you are."

Knocks rapped from the door and Ana opened it. Both Edna and Braden came in with plates of food, silverware, cups, and a pitcher, and sat it neatly on the round table. Braden informed Ana that he'd be back to run a new bath after their food, then left.

Ana brought the plate to Sandor, having it sit on his lap and placed a steaming tankard of tea on the nightstand. On his plate was two fried eggs, three sausages, and a small loaf of bread. Wasn't very much for a big man such as he, but least it was better than dried meat and apples.

Just when he was about to dig into his food, Ana slid her two eggs off her plate and onto his. He looked at her curiously and said: "You're not hungry?"

"I don't really like eggs." She replied. "And anyway, you need it more than I do to build your strength."

Sandor watched her walk back to the table to sit and being as hungry as she was, she didn't greedily ate at her food like how others might of have. Instead, she picked up her fork and knife and delicately sliced pieces from her sausages, chewing it slowly. After camping, riding, and seeing her fight, he had forgotten that Ana was a lady, a lady of two of the biggest houses in Westeros and he was sharing a room with her.

Which then triggered a curious question. "Why do you go by your mother's maiden name?"

Ana had stopped chewing and looked up from her plate. "Pardon?"

"You called yourself 'Ana of House Tyrell', but your father is a Stark." He watched her carefully as Ana's once calm demeanor slowly became dark and the light in her eyes had vanished.

"My father…" Sandor noticed how she uttered the last word with venom. "...left me, he left me to join the Wall when I was only a babe. And when he took that bloody oath, I lost any inheritance from him. I may have the Stark blood, but he isn't my father, never was. He is only Benjen to me."

As she said this, she did not look at him and although she was staring at the wall, it seemed that she was seeing something else.

'Must be why those cunt Lannisters haven't touched her yet. She has nothing to gain.'

"What of your mother?"

"My mother died whilst birthing me. After that, House Tyrell raised me as their ward. That is why I go by my mother's name."

The word 'ward' stood out to him. She was still of Tyrell blood and yet she used the word 'ward' instead of any family related words. Ward was only a nicer way of saying 'hostage'. He saw the fire that was burning inside her and the way she tightly clenched her knife. He decided to distinguish the fire by broaching onto another subject.

"Where did you learn to tend to wounds? I doubt your septa taught you that."

"You're right, she didn't. No one did, but I am good at observation and so I would sometimes secretly watch the maester perform surgery or nurses tending to soldiers. The hardest part was trying not to get caught..." Sandor was relieved to see her give small smile when said the latter. Ana continued. "Being a lady, I was not allowed to see such gore. But… it fascinated me and I found it useful to know these methods, as you can see." She gestured towards his leg.

Sandor turned his gaze towards the nightstand. "How did you know this bloody tea would work?"

Ana giggled. "I was raised in Highgarden. I'm quite familiar with anything that grows. I knew that elderflower had useful healing factors for fevers."

"Oh…" He muttered.

"You are just full of questions today. Are you alright?" She smiled.

Sandor cleared his throat. "Fine. You're just an odd one. Different from your Stark cousins."

Ana furrowed her brows. "Should I be offended?"

"No!" He said a little too harshly, but she still looked confused. 'Damn it, dog. What are you doing?'

Sandor continued. "Not in a bad way. It's not often I meet a girl of a noble house who is every bit of a lady and has the guts of a soldier."

She laughed. "Well, when being raised by mostly men, one develops a fascination with swords, horseback riding, and every other activity girls are socially forbidden from. And being in my kind of- umm... position, as a lady I must do whatever it takes to bring honor to House Tyrell." There was hesitation in her voice. "In this world, men survive with a sword in their hands and women survive with a pretty face and pleasantry."

"That makes the little wolf twice as deadly." Sandor mused.

"I suppose one would say so."

"Who taught you how to fight?"

"That is a story for another time." Ana said quietly. "Eat. I think your food is getting cold."

She was right. Sandor's curiosity of the little wolf had left him neglecting his meal cooling in the chilly air. His eggs were cold and tasted funny, but he didn't care. There was more to this girl than what he thought her to be and he was interested in finding out what else the little wolf was capable of.

After they had broke their fast, Braden had came in to run a new bath having the room become a bit humid again from the steam of the scalding water. The boy collected the dishes into a basket and handed a bottle with clear liquids to Ana.

"Here's what you asked for. Will there be anything else, miss?

She took the bottle in her slender hands and swished the contents around in it's container. "Please tell your father that we will be staying for another night. That will be all."

The boy noded before departing silently.

Ana faced towards Sandor. "By your condition, I think it safer that we stay another night. You can barely sit up on your own."

This wounded Sandor's pride, though she was right. "What of your bloody Stark cousin? Arya?"

"I'm sure she can't be too far ahead. Possibly just a day's ride." He noticed a hint of doubt in her voice.

"Don't let me drag you behind." Sandor said a bit too harshly. "Fuck your pity. I'm well off on my own."

Ana glared. "It's not pity. I'm not leaving you behind. It's the right thing to do."

He scoffed. "Doing the right thing will get you or another killed."

"It didn't get you killed."

Sandor became silent at that. Although the damn girl saved his life, he hated to admit it.

Ana changed topics. "The water will get cold soon."

A single popping sound echoed the room bringing Sandor's attention to the bottle that Ana had just uncorked. "What's in the bottle?"

She poured the contents into the tub, mixing it with the hot water. "Vinegar."

"You're fucking kidding me… I'm not bathing in the shite."

"Oh yes you are. Bathing in this will cleanse you fairly well and will reduce any fevers you may have."

"My fever is gone."

"Good, now let's keep it that way."

Muttering a few curses under his breath, Sandor pushed himself up off the bed while holding onto the wall to keep him steady. He made his way towards Ana who stood by the tub with a sponge in her small hands. He snatched it, having her flinch back a little.

"I can bathe on my own." Sandor grumbled towering over her.

Ana noded with a slight redness to her cheeks. "Um… right. I will be heading off now." She turned away to find her cloak hanging on the seat of a chair.

"Where you going?"

"Into Redfort. It's close by and I thought I would go and scout around and find any information as to where Arya may be." She said while clasping the cloak around her shoulders, then strapping on her daggers and her long sword round her slender waist. "I will be back before sundown. Till then, I suggest you take another bath a few hours after this one. You will start to give off a sour smell if you don't." She giggled lightly at his grim look. "I will see you tonight."

After Sandor had noded, Ana pulled over her hood to conceal her face, then vanished out the door. Stripping off his clothes and tossing them to the floors, Sandor stepped into the tub and sunk down into the steaming water. Being a big man such as he, it irritated him at how small the tub was, but least it was something. After a few minutes of soaking, he had gotten used to the sour smell of vinegar and his sore muscles began to relax. Looking down at his right thigh, he noted the fine stitches that Ana had done to close up his open wound. He wondered if her practiced came from hours of seam work with her septa or if she had actually stitched up a wounded man before. Of all people, why help him? Usually people wouldn't look twice in his direction. Always fleeing in fear from him and the bloodthirsty reputation he carried. Aside from his fucking brother, he was the last person in Westeros who deserved salvation. And not only that, but Ana doesn't seem to fear his face unlike the others who can't even look at him. Sandor could not understand why this all happened and it frustrated him.

Taking up the sponge, he began scrubbing away the dirt, blood, and grime that clung to his skin. He was fucking filthy.

**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Let me know in the comments. Your support is much appreciated. We are really starting to get to know more of Ana. I'm really excited for you guys!**

**If you want to stay updated with BWR, follow Ana on twitter: TheGardenWolf**

**Till the next chapter... Happy readings!**


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